


who we are from the start

by bubblegumcherrypop



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ??? with Benefits, Ambiguous Relationships, Blasphemy, Friends With Benefits, Kunimi Akira-centric, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblegumcherrypop/pseuds/bubblegumcherrypop
Summary: Idly, Akira wonders if he’s more than just a man, more than just an old teammate, more than just a precious kouhai to Tooru. Akira wishes, he wonders, he gasps and digs his nails into Tooru’s tough back.
Relationships: Kunimi Akira/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	who we are from the start

**Author's Note:**

> title from ‘lose it’ by oh wonder!

Akira let his head loll into the crook of Tooru’s neck as he exhaled a drag of his cigarette. The room smelt of ash and sex, nicotine, whiskey and addiction to _something_. Moonlight crept in from the translucent hotel curtains, white silk not pulled over to block it out. From behind him, Tooru’s bare chest was covered in a thin veil of sweat against Akira’s own naked back. 

There was no sound but words left unsaid. Akira felt Tooru’s chest expand and contract as he breathed, then a hand carding through his unkempt hair. 

“Need a lift to the airport tomorrow?” Akira offered, meaninglessly. 

Tooru spared him a laugh, “since when did you drive?”

Akira shrugged, letting his body slump down. “I could call you a taxi.” 

“I appreciate the offer.”

Tooru’s tone was lighthearted - always was. Especially on these nights - _their_ nights, past midnight in a nameless hotel - where words were no more than breath from their lungs. 

  
  


Moments passed into thin air. 

“Akira, kiss me.”

And Akira did.

  
  
  


Maybe, to the hotel receptionist, they looked like two friends who simply stayed out too late, couldn’t catch a train home so needed a room to stay overnight. 

Maybe, after Tooru snaked a heavy arm around Akira’s waist and kissed his neck there and then, the hotel receptionist would think they were just drunkens, misguided. 

And maybe, just maybe, Akira wished that they _were_ just two men out too late for the last train. Drunk and misguided. Because Akira was one of those men who simply missed the train to his apartment a town away and Tooru was _not._

  
Akira wishes,

then he falls - supported only by Tooru’s hands on his hips. 

Idly, Akira wonders if he’s more than just a man, more than just his old teammate, more than just his precious _kouhai_ to Tooru. Akira wishes, he wonders, he gasps and digs his nails into Tooru’s tough back. Akira prays to god that he can be something _more_. 

But _being led on_ was always a concept Akira was well acquainted with, ever since he was little. Prayers always nothing more than empty air, God nothing more than a concept to deceive him. Because if there was a way to heaven, it was here - Tooru’s hands gripping his shaking thighs, tighter with every utterance of his name Akira chanted. 

_Tooru, Tooru, Tooru,_ never Oikawa. Not here. In these phantom nights, it was Tooru and Akira - _Oikawa_ and _Kunimi_ forgone. 

The taste of whiskey seeped into his taste buds from Tooru’s tongue, taking over the ash. Feeling Tooru’s chest rise and fall was almost therapeutic, a relief, a remedy - and his hands stroking Akira’s back so _slow._ The cooldown was always sweet. Too sweet, almost. Tooru’s fingers on his spine were too tender, the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat against Akira’s chest too intimate. 

Akira could’ve mistaken them for lovers. He knows his subconscious does, showing him dreams of hands intertwined, only to fade into a hazy memory and vague feelings of emptiness upon waking. Tooru’s hands snaked into his hair and Akira sighed, going lax under his touch. It wasn’t just the whiskey making him weak-kneed, warm, fuzzy. 

Although only a phantom, these nights were safe. In nameless hotels on heartbreak alley, they’d find solace. They could pretend to be lovers if only for the night, unspoken boundaries always known. Caress each other, hold each other like highschool sweethearts. Whisper sweet nothings, but never sweet promises. What happens in these nameless hotels stays in these nameless hotels; because despite being on heartbreak alley, these invisible barriers prevent it - is the sole reason for their existence. 

Oh, but Akira wished it was that simple. He shuffled from where he lay between Tooru’s bare thighs, taking a drag from his cigarette. The only time he and Tooru could see each other was here, these momentary nights. Why would they bother with all the phone calls, the timezones, the texts, when they could have sex and pretend to be lovers like it hadn’t been years since they’d seen each other for the night?

Akira knew they could never invest the effort to a long distance relationship, so they have this. It’s almost like they make up for years of never sparing even a word to or a thought about each other in a night. The two of them couldn’t even have _this_ if they’d attempt the distance, they’d crumble in a month. 

The _catch up game_ was more their style.

  
  


But still.   
  


“Akira, you tired yet?” 

“No,” a lie, “are you?”

Tooru laughed. 

It didn’t matter that Akira was spent, eyelids feeling like concrete. The sunrise filtered in through the sheen curtains, neither gave it no mind, even has the midnight-dyed white bed sheets lit up in the dawn’s glow. Time never existed on heartbreak alley, it’s all just _transient_. 

And, when Tooru - the object of all Akira’s desires - leaves for his plane back to Argentina, time will resume, _Kunimi_ will cry dry tears in the empty king-sized bed in this nameless hotel and count down the months till _aoba johsai’s_ next reunion.

The room will smell like sex and cigarette ash and _Oikawa._

  
  


“Let’s go again,” Tooru said. 

Akira ran his hands down Tooru’s chest like he was a page ripped from the bible.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twt icedmo_!


End file.
